Choices Burned in Ash
by goddess-orchid
Summary: Andione Hawke has tried to do right by everyone, but makes a choice that may be her undoing. All she wants is to protect those she loves even from themselves. Anders loves her and their unborn child, but as the world crumbles his control and convictions may turn. Friendships are broken, betrayal becomes life, innocent lives are lost, and love is tested. There are no easy answers.
1. Only This

Chapter 1

~~~ All characters belong to Bioware/EA where appropriate. Original characters including Andione Hawke are my own.~~~

"I told you I would break your heart."

"Yes, but you did not say you would break everything else as well!"

The words still echoed in Anders mind as he lay on the cold ground. Almost eight months later and they rang out in horrific clarity. The memory of Hawke standing before him with a look of utmost terror burned into his brain, as Sebastian recited his prayer. She turned to him wide eyed, and mouth agape. It was as if she had seen something unfathomable, yet all she had seen was the monster Anders knew he could be. Perhaps he would think that the templars were somewhat right if not for Justice being woven into his being. Anders let out a quiet huff. No, he would feel the same.

The darkness of night encroached upon Anders and Hawke as they shivered beneath the nights sky. They hadn't found a cave nor an abandoned barn to hide in for a few days. They were forced to abandon their tent during the last templar attack. If it had been summer it would be fine, but winter was just beginning. Hawke should have been in a warm bed, resting with Sodna at her feet. He covered her shoulder with a blanket, knowing how foolish it was for some small part of him thinking it'd protect her from the darkness that consumed their lives. There used to be light before the chantry, before Meredith destroyed the mage underground. Hawke and Anders had a future.

Anders stared into Hawke's back and a sickly feeling arose in his stomach. That was a lie. Life had been growing ever blacker for years. Once Hawke told him he reminded her of her father. He wished he could be like Malcolm Hawke and other mages like him, living in anonymity with a family. He used to think he could, but no longer could he sit back hiding.

Before everything went to the void Anders had been running himself ragged trying to maintain the mage underground, but Meredith had been swift and merciless. If it were not for the grateful refugees on his side he would have been imprisoned long ago. Not to mention Hawke trying to keep templars and guards from darktown. A few less reputable ones had taken coin at first, but Meredith weeded them out too. Maker knows how Hawke was able to dissuade the ones who honestly believed in Meredith. The insane bitch had left him alone enough despite knowing he was an apostate, but if a templar had decided to bring him in. There would have been no escape. Yet she avoided him to appease Hawke, so long as she continued to be under Meredith's thumb.

Hawke had done so much for him over the years. He hoped to pay her back, but with the cold hard ground beneath him it remained a far off dream. He had tarnished her name, reduced her to hiding in forests and caves, and ruined everything she had tried to build. The only gift he had given her was a potential curse and another risk.

Hawke rolled onto her other side facing him. To Anders, Hawke was nothing less than a goddess, but even he could see what the constant paranoia and life on the road had done. Her brown cheeks were gaunt and pale. She no longer wore a peaceful expression when sleeping; her brows furrowed when nightmares did not wake her. She tossed and turned only to pull away from Anders when he tried to calm her down. She should have run her blade through him. Anders swallowed back the bile he felt when he realized part of him was grateful she hadn't. He had wanted to live. _Coward_. Justice had not been served, and that fact shredded his insides each day. Justice eluded the dead and the living. Justice eluded his beloved.

_'Loving her is selfish,' _Justice said.

_ You tell me nothing new._

_ 'You should have turned her away years ago'_

_ I know that better than anyone, so shut up._

_ 'How many mages are dying as you lay here?"_

_ Shall I leave her here alone for templars to find?_

_ 'No, but we could do so much more if she was elsewhere. She could have the life we deny her...she could clear her own name. Restore it to its former honor. '_

Hawke, the daughter of an apostate, brought glory to her family name. Anders didn't think it was possible for a mage to be so well renowned. If it had not been for the magic in her blood she could have been viscount. Meredith and Orsino suspected she was a mage, but those she helped told no secrets and dead men told no tales. It would have been easy for her to be normal. Anders certainly wouldn't have suspected anything if she came into the clinic like another refugee instead of armored. Andione Hawke chose to love him, to follow him, and even now she stuck by him...or maybe she just felt obligated.

Anders frowned, shutting his eyes. It wouldn't have been so strange if that's all it was. With Hawke in her current state it could only be expected. She was with child, his child, and with her standing by the mages she was a symbol of that which the templars hated. Hawke's life overflowed with dangers because he had to have her.

_'I warned you._' Justice voice rang out.

Anders did not respond to Justice. The feelings and thoughts felt different from his own, but with the passing months the differences between him and the spirit blurred. There was a song in his head that was purely Anders, and one loud note that had been his friend. That one note song of justice no longer played in contrast to his own, but alongside it. Sometimes it was hard to hear Hawke's song over it, but it didn't used to be so.

In Kirkwall Anders went to her side each night, and looked at her with peace in his eyes instead of untold pain. She believed her presence acted as a ward against Justice. He let her think that. Her love was a warm bright barrier pulling Anders from the edge of martyrdom, of insanity. He let her think that too. Still when his eyes fell upon her face all other things became distant. Her magic called to him and in the quiet moments everything else faded away. The spirit's hold grew soft at those moments. However, Justice wove deeper into him, and knew the spirit forced him to acknowledge the sickening truth. Anders tired of being alone, and because of that he brought Hawke down with him.

Anders rolled onto his back, suppressing the urge to grab Hawke. If he told her he was sorry once than he'd never stop. It would never be a sorry for the templars. It may not even be a sorry for the innocent lives, but only for her life and the life Hawke carried. Anders insides twisted up in knots. His stomach lurched, and he pulled the blanket up more to try and stave off the cold. It did not work.

"Mother always wanted her children to be happy," Hawke would tell him. "You make me happy Anders. That is why I let you stay." Kirkwall made her happy, and more often than not she could lead the peaceful life she deserved. Yet every day her reputation had grown, and more people needed the Champion's help. Still he never saw her complain or turn anyone down. It was another reason to love her.

In Kirkwall their magic would dance across the room as they made love. It played out in the chorus of Hawke's moans and in every groan he made against her soft neck. She'd reach her peak and cry out his name then launch into a torrent of "I love you"'s. Anders knew more happiness than he could ever remember having on those warm nights. Even Justice, who disapproved, told Anders that love suited him even if it couldn't last.

As he looked to the grimacing face of his lover, and her swollen belly he recounted the last eight months. Their companions had left or been sent away by Hawke one by one. Isabela continued on north with Fenris. Merrill was sent to a dalish clan in tears with Varric to accompany her. Donnic and Aveline had been forced away despite their sense of duty. Alone Anders and Hawke had been in more fights than he cared to recount. The black outs worsened. Every once in a while when he came to Hawke appeared mortified, but she'd never tell him what Justice said. She hadn't told him she loved him. In truth she hadn't said much of anything to him at all unless she needed to. The nights had turned to her flinching away instinctively from his touch.

"Never leave." Those were her words.

That was along ago. Now there was only this.


	2. Monsters In Your Bed

Chapter 2

Blisters ached in her feet, and her back could not have been sorer. She was not used to it at all, even after seven months. Then again she spent nearly a decade in comforts she couldn't dream of as a child. The Maker had blessed her with riches and fame. The Maker had kept her safe from the templars, but she was now in the arms of an abomination. Maybe the Maker shied away from her for that reason.

Hawke wiggled, pushing down her blanket as a sudden heat over took her. A small groan brought forth the memory of who was resting beside her. Hawke's tired eyes looked at Anders and something beneath her heart reached up gripping her throat tight. The river of poison trickled out from a dark pit within her, and spread to every appendage. Once she thought his muddled hair was cute, and she wished to wipe the disquiet from his face as he drifted into some half hearted dream just outside the Fade.

That was also long ago.

_"Never leave." was all Hawke asked of Anders and, to her later shame, it was all she wanted. There had to be one person who stayed. "Live here with me."_

_ There were solid facts to Andione Hawke's life. The one that cut deepest was that everyone left or she left them. That's all her life had been, running from one village to the next. Her father's fear or her mother's discomfort prompting their latest flight. Lothering was supposed to be her last home. Her father promised that they couldn't be caught again. She and Bethany were old enough to have control. No one knew him there, and templars only passed through the village sparingly. They were safe, and she would grow old there. _

_ Yet she lost Lothering and everyone, but Carver was dead. He never cared for Andione though he loved her enough to beat up boys who "came on too strong" much to their father's approval. When he first noticed Hawke's interest he threatened to kick Anders arse back to Ferelden. Yet he walked in far off lands. All she had was Anders, her friends, and Kirkwall._

_ "You are everything to me. There can be no one else." She ignored the memory of Fenris leaving her estate. His eyes sadder than she had ever seen, as her heart tried to convince her brain to call after him. It would have been cruel. She hadn't loved him the way she loved Anders. Fenris could never understand._

_ Anders stared at her in disbelief, but his smiled betrayed his hope. "Would you really have me here?" He slid his arms around her pulling her close. If the Maker's was kind Anders would never let go."Tell the world, the knight-commander that you love an apostate?"_

_ She looked up into his eyes and caressed his cheek. The feel of his stubble against her fingertips reminded her she was alive. They both were, and no one could get between them, not even Justice. He was hers and hers alone forever. Justice could never have him as deeply as she could. They deserved a life for all the good they'd done._

_ "I love you, Anders. Not the apostate, but you. "_

_ Anders stood there looking into her eyes. His smile faded a little, and for a brief instant his eyes darkened. Had it been so hard to believe her words? There was so much more to Anders than magic. She had spoken truth, and she could make him see what she did. _

_ Hawke pressed her body against his, and he stroked her hair like she could break at any moment._

_"Justice, being an apostate, being the healer of darktown...those things are all a part of you but they are not all you." _

_If only she knew how wrong she was at the time._

Hawke sat up, slowly, pressing a hand to her stomach. Things hadn't changed. She lost everything and everyone, except Anders. The Maker could not tear him from her. Hawke's face contorted, and she sucked in her cheeks. It wasn't just about her anymore. They had a child. Somehow she fell pregnant. Grey Wardens weren't supposed to be able to have children. It had been unspoken truth that after she told Anders they spent the early months waiting for a miscarriage. Hawke could not say she wouldn't have been sad, nor relieved if it had happened. She couldn't believe that their child would be healthy or...normal. The taint in his blood must have corrupted their child somehow. Hawke pressed her fingers hard against her stomach until it hurt. She didn't want to see what horrors the darkspawn taint could produce. She put her hands over her face. A small pain rang out in her chest. Anders would probably deliver their child in the middle of nowhere. He'd have to see it. Maybe that was the Maker's punishment. All they could do was wait to receive it.

"Are you alright?"

She turned her head, meeting Anders gaze briefly before turning away. Whenever he looked at her with unconditional adoration her skin crawled. The concern in his eyes ran just as deep as his love.

"I'm fine. I just can't sleep." She tried to sit still, but her body began to tremble as the cold air hit her arms. Anders sat up pulling her into his arms, wrapping the blanket around them. Sodna, Andione's Mabari, looked back at them from across their camp before turning back to watching the night.

"We need to find you new robes," Anders said.

"We're lucky we found these." The purple robes they stole from that a house in the village of Heathley last month were the only thing besides a summer dress she stole that fit her in her current state. The robes had sleeves, but it was evident they were more for style due to the cut between the sleeves that exposed her shoulders. Another slit ran at her thighs, and she was lucky she had a skirt long enough to cover herself. Ferelden may have been far colder, but the winters of the Free Marches were positively biting even if it did not usually snow.

Hawke couldn't help but lay her head against his chest. Though it happened out of habit, she denied the urge to pull away. If she could pretend things were as they once were life could be so much easier.

"You should be miles from here. Some place warm and safe."

"There are no safe places anymore." Silence as hard as a stone fell between them. It was another simple fact of her life. Hawke shut her eyes listening to Anders heart beat. He was still human. Still a man. She needed to believe that.

"With Aveline and Donnic there could be." It wasn't a statement, but a question. The same question had been asked a thousand times before. Anders kept hoping for a different answer each time, but that was foolish.

"No. Besides...she would not have me regardless."

Anders had not questioned what went on between Hawke and Aveline during their earlier escape. No one had known, not even Donnic, what drove the two women apart. It had been nothing and everything at all. Aveline had been family in many ways and she was gone. Hawke pushed back the tears threatening to overwhelm her, and Anders kissed her forehead.

It burned.


	3. Sister

Chap 3: Sister

_ "Hawke, we should have stayed in Kirkwall." Aveline's fists were wound tight, and Hawke was not sure if Aveline wanted to hit her or someone else. The tavern was filled to the brim with loud noisy antivan drunks singing songs of the bastard king who chose to be a warden. The air reeked of stale ale and unfamiliar spices and meats. Hawke's senses refused to adapt though they had spent a few days there. The group blended in with the crowd and news leaving Kirkwall was slow coming due to the chaos. The rumors said an apostate had destroyed the Kirkwall chantry and the knight-commander had lost her mind, but not who or how. It gave them plenty of time._

_ Hawke rubbed her hands together, saying nothing, noting every line of worry marring Aveline's face. Aveline's mouth was fixed in a permanent look of disdain every time they spoke of Anders. Even Donnic had been keeping his distance. Weeks ago they wouldn't have been traveling in seedy taverns. They would have been in Hawke's estate eating and laughing over whatever foolish criminal Aveline had stopped that day. Donnic would be besting Anders at cards before Varric wrecked his moment and cleaned them both out. Aveline wouldn't look at Hawke like she was one of those criminals._

_ "There was no staying. Cullen saw what I was." It sounded far more pragmatic than the truth, that she wanted Anders more than she cared about right and wrong. Another silence fell between them. Aveline knew Hawke was right, but she knew Hawke too well._

_ "Does Anders know?"_

_ "Not yet, but he will. I can't continue to hide it," Hawke said, glancing over her shoulder toward the door. She had rarely been ill, and had loose enough robes that hid her growing belly. No amount of robes, however, would hide her for much longer. "Grey wardens were not supposed to be able have children."_

_ "How could be you sure that applied in his...state." Aveline's eyes bored into Hawke. She must have hated Hawke for driving her from her home. Aveline was right to._

_" We did take precautions, but it apparently did not help." Hawke tried to ignore the heat building inside her chest, but it escaped in her biting tone. None of this was supposed to happen, yet Aveline acted like this was some grand scheme. All Hawke knew was that they must have conceived before leaving Kirkwall. The unspoken agreement that engulfed Anders and Hawke after leaving meant there was no real intimacy. When she dressed she faced away from him, and she only let him hold her for warmth. Kisses and caresses were too much, too intimate, for what they had now. "I did not realize it myself until we were on Isabela's ship. It must have happened before he did…whatever he did in the Chantry."_

_ Aveline's bright eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed."He still won't tell you exactly how-"_

_ "No…but I can almost assure you it was old magic. It smelled of…ancient broken curses and made my skin sizzle." Hawke's eyes fell and she intertwined her fingers. Anxiety danced up and down her spine. Aveline's ability to judge with her eyes alone was astounding. It took Hawke apart bit by bit."It was impressive…destructive, but impressive."_

_ A dry choking laugh left Aveline's throat and she stared at Hawke with disbelief. "You two truly deserve each other." The words came out in a low growl. Inside her head Hawke recoiled, but she refused to show it. " But an innocent child? Even if it is not a mage it will be hunted so long as it's parentage is known."_

_The words stung deep into Hawke's chest deeper than any sword or arrow could ever go. Yet that stinging mixed with the fire already settling there. How dare she? Despite her love for Aveline, she could be so self righteous. Andione Hawke was no foolish criminal on the run over silly trifles. She hadn't planned for Anders to blow up the chantry, nor had she planned to be with child. Yet Aveline sat before her casting judgment when all Hawke could do was act. Hawke leaned forward closing the distance between them. _

_ "You think I do not know that? Trust me when I say this was not planned Aveline. I am not even sure I ever wanted to…" She trailed off drawing in a slow deep breath. Eyes were glancing in their direction. Unless one knew Aveline one would not be able to see the fear in her eyes, but Hawke saw it plain. There was always a chance someone there heard their tale, and if they were caught...Hawke shuddered at the thought. _

_ Hawke sighed lowering her eyes to the table. Those around them gradually went back to what they were doing. That had been far too close. Aveline's shoulders slumped, and a tired look came over her face. Everyday her companions remained was another day of their lives at risk. They'd be persecuted just like Hawke and Anders for their loyalty. Aveline...Merrill...Varric...they deserved more._

"_Maker." Aveline stood up, and stared at Hawke who in turn came to the only decision she could. There could be no other way. Aveline wouldn't go on her own though. She wasn't that heartless. Despite her rage some part of her loved Hawke, or maybe loved Hawke's mother enough, to watch out for Hawke. Aveline's fists clenched tight and Hawke could hear the metal of her gloves clink. Aveline turned and began walking towards the door._

_Barely above a whisper Hawke heard Aveline say, "What right have either of you to a child?"_

_The next morning Hawke awoke before the sun had risen to the horizon. She bathed and dressed herself in her grey robes, then sat at the desk across the room. They had spent a fair bit of coin getting rooms, but Hawke insisted. After all who knew when they would be allowed such luxury again. She began to count out her coin making her to divide it up, as evenly as possible. The coins weighed like iron in her hands and on her heart. Isabela had already sailed for brighter lands, and Fenris had left as soon as they were clear from Kirkwall. Hawke suspected Isabela went off in search of him again, or perhaps that she even knew where he stalked to. She did not press the issue, for both their sakes. Fenris had taken nothing, but Hawke gave Isabela enough coin for more crew on her ship. Merrill needed to find dalish. The girl would not do well in a city by herself particularly with her looks and magic." Varric must accompany her. Perhaps Aveline and Donnic will go with them. I shall leave that choice to them."_

_"Hawke," Anders sleep laden voice caused her to turn her head. He sat up his chest bare and hair a mess. "You're up early. Is something wrong?"_

_Hawke turned back to the coin before her pulling out three wallets and putting 50 coins in two with 90 in another. She had managed to grab a large amount of coin, and she intended to give it away to her friends fairly. She had dragged them into this disaster. To protect them they had to get as far away as possible. There could be no other way. She owed them so much more than they could ever know. _

_"Hawke?"_

_"I am fine." Hawke brushed her hair behind her ears, drawing in a slow steady breath to calm herself. There could be no looking back. No resistance. "After breakfast I intend to gather everyone. Can you get dressed in a bit and get them for me please?"_

_Anders stared at her in silence. The sound of him swinging his legs over the bed made her swallow. She couldn't deal with him questioning her choices or worse wanting to talk. Doing the right thing was hard and she certainly did not need him to remind her of that. "Please, my love. I...just need some time to think."_

_"Of course, love." Anders stood walking toward her, and everything in her head wanted to run from him. When he came behind her he rested his hands on her back. For the first time she recoiled from him, jumping in her seat while simultaneously shrugging away his hands. Invisible blood stained every finger, and he smeared it across her back. His touch was the taint in his grey warden blood vile. Her reaction sent her heart plummeting to her stomach. She shut her eyes as guilt reached up into her throat strangling her in a way she never could have imagined. She loved him. She could not stand him. And worse yet she couldn't stand being without him. They were supposed to be an example of what good mages do, of what two people in love could do. Hawke's eyes fell to the floor, and as she began to turn her head Anders stepped back. "You're making them leave to protect them. It is...because you have a good heart." The words rang hollow in her ears, and she turned away. The right thing would have been letting Anders face real justice for his deeds. A good person would have done that, not someone driven by greed and selfish love."If only that was a contagious nature."_

_She heard him shuffle about, and pull on his shirt and coat. There was no need to look, for she could imagine his beautiful sad eyes marked with undeniable hurt all too clearly in her mind. Hawke's heart was thumping against her chest, and her head was swirling. 'If not now when?' As Anders approached the door Hawke drew in a quick breath, her fingers digging into the palms of her hands._

_"Anders," She waited for him to pause before continuing, "I'm pregnant." After a moment she turned toward him, unwilling to hide the fear that crawled through her skin. Anders stared at her dumbfounded and wide eyed. He looked as if she squeezed the wind from his lungs._

_"H-how can you be-"_

_"From what I understand, probably something to do with your ritual with Justice, or maybe even him in conjunction with your frequent healing has some temporary spillover effect." Hawke tried to sound clinical about it, but her hands trembled as she spoke. _

_Anders face became conflicted going from shocked to sad and back again before something else set in. His expression was akin to horror. She could see the entirety of what transpired in Kirkwall pass within his eyes the restless nights, the quiet evenings, the fire, the blood, and death. " If I had known I wouldn't have...No." He began to move toward her again before falling to their bed. Perhaps Justice was arguing with him, telling Anders that he wouldn't have acted differently. The thought made her insides twist further into knots and a wave of nausea came over her. "Hawke, I would never have put you in this position. If I had known-"_

_"But you didn't. I chose to stand by you, and now we're here." What would be the point of dwelling. She had clung to him and stayed with him regardless._

_"You can return to Kirkwall and clear your name?" His voice was quiet, almost fragile._

_Hawke shook her head."No. I am a confirmed mage."She gripped her robe, imagining the stone walls of the gallows surrounding her, screaming as her child was ripped from her arms. She did not have much, but they'd take nothing from her. Sourness crept out from her spirit, filling her voice with spite. "They would imprison me...and if a templar did not kill me in cold blood they would take my child from me. I would rather die than that." _

_"If we can keep moving for a couple of months I can see if my contacts can get you somewhere safe. Tevinter, Rivain, anywhere far from Kirkwall and me." _

_Before she realized Hawke had risen to her feet, turning around. A rush of panic surged in her veins. Being alone was not an option. He had let himself falter and she had to be there for him to remind him that he was still a man. He had to be there for her and their child. Besides who would be there for him if she left? He was a threat...and he was hurting. Even if she couldn't return his affection, she knew her being there made some sort of difference. It had to..._

_"I'm staying with you."_

_"No. I can't allow you or our child to be hunted because of me."_

_"It's too late for that. The others have a chance. I'm sending them to find their own paths elsewhere while they still can, but I defended you. I'm forever linked to your legacy." The finality of it sank into her brain, and weighed down her chest. This was what she chose. She drew in a breath, choking down her thoughts. "We will continue on to help the resistance where we can."_

_"In your condition-"_

_"I have months before that's an issue." She said the words like she believed them, but that didn't stop the doubt eating the back of her mind._

_"It's more complicated than that." Anders shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "I have told you I cannot give you children...but part of the reason isn't that I simply can't. I...read a few records, for a friend in Ferelden. She wanted to know if she could have children." Hawke turned watching as Anders fingers toyed with the blanket. His head was hung low and his voice sounded broken...defeated. Every word seemed lined with pain, despite him trying to be as clinical as she had tried to be. "Besides it being next to impossible because her intended husband was another warden, I found that out of 23 wives of wardens and three female wardens who had managed to become pregnant only 4 made it to labor and then only two of children were born alive. One was unaccounted for."_

_"The other?"_

_"He had a sickly life."_

_Hawke should have been heartbroken at the thought, but all she felt was stunned. Only 25 women and only a few gave birth? She had seen miscarriages ruin some women and yet barely wound others. Some women in Lowtown died from them when healing wasn't an option, or when refugees frightened of magic let themselves die rather then have Anders help them. Far more women died in labor. That could easily become her fate, and that didn't sit right with her— to die with a whimper and not a bang. The thought mulled over in her mind, yet what bothered her most was the fact that the thought of a miscarriage in and of itself didn't cause any feeling. It was a possibility she didn't consider, but neither did she consider being with child or on the run. The thought of giving birth sent pin pricks to her belly, and made her brain spin as if hit by a lightening spell. They were running for their lives, and in the coming months nothing would get easier. Three Kirkwall mages had escaped and were hiding out in the woods in need of help. One was rumored to be a blood mage, but Anders was determined to help them. Honestly, so was she. That fact alone meant a child was at constant threat in their care. No child deserved a half life. A twisted part of her barked in the back of her mind, stalking every corridor of her brain. It...hoped for a miscarriage, and Hawke felt her innards violently._

_She swallowed, fighting the urge to vomit as she pushed everything down within herself. How many quiet nights had she laid awake fantasizing about freeing mages, and then settling with Anders? Justice would be quiet, and they would have two children. She'd have a permanent home and respectability, the two things her parents always lamented they couldn't give her. She let out a harsh sigh, soon she would know what it'd be like._

_With mirthless laughter she rubbed her forehead. Those thoughts were ridiculous before the chantry exploded. Still Kirkwall's peace became her greatest wish. She had never dreamt of the city falling ash and chaos. She never thought Anders, even with Justice coursing through his veins, capable of such violence. Did she even know him anymore? She kept saying she could move past it, but his very touch lingered on her skin with marks of defilement. Everything had soured and burned. She was constantly looking over her shoulder, and no longer knew where she would rest her head. The only kindness she could pray for was that the Maker would not have more innocents fall because of Anders, but the Maker couldn't prevent man's thirst for revenge._

_Hawke laid her hand upon her stomach. Aveline had been right their child would be hunted. Senseless violence always lead to more violence. Perhaps it wasn't wrong then that their baby should not be born. Hawke shut her eyes, drawing in a breath. It did not matter what she thought. The heaviness of the truth had finally sunken in, Hawke had never been in control of her fate. All she could do was react—to Meredith, the blight, Bartrand, the quanari, and even to her beloved Anders. A puppet to fate, she had never really been driving her own story. Whatever awaited them would come to pass. They could only keep moving forward._

_Hawke gathered the coin pouches slipping them into her pocket, and stood walking toward the door. She paused, gripping the cold iron handle tight. This was her life, and even if she couldn't forgive him he had a place in it._

_"Anders, we will see what comes, and face it together. As we always have."_

_Hawke made her way down the hall and sat at a table beside a window near the front of the inn. Outside people were just setting up to greet the day. A merchant was setting up his wares, and a woman was pulling water from a well, while a goat ran at her feet. They had no clue who Hawke was or what. They lived quiet simple lives. Envy bubbled up from inside, and she let out a slow breath. For a while she had that life in Lothering, and even then she thirsted for the occasional adventure. She'd lay in their barn and tell Bethany "Once, just once I'd like to be able to use my magic to help people besides just lighting a fire,". If she was in their place she'd still dream of being somewhere else. 'Grass is always greener...'_

_"Hawke."_

_Hawke shouldn't have been surprised Aveline was awake early. Aveline's emerald eyes seemed sad, and her lips formed a deep frown. Only days ago Hawke had joked that she didn't think Aveline really aged, but as the former guard-captain stood before her the years on her face weighed in miles. She sat across from Hawke and lowered her eyes._

_"I was wrong for what I said."_

_Hawke shrugged. The offense she felt last night still stung, but that didn't mean she disagreed. She wished it did._

_"You were right for it."_

_Aveline's brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed in on Hawke, as if she suspected her of hiding something else._

_ "No. Things are hard on everyone right now. I lost my temper." Aveline looked out on the street, and she seemed removed from reality like a dreamer in the Fade. "It was easier to follow you in the gallows. We did the right thing. I knew that from the moment I saw the children."_

_ Hawke winced at the memories vividness. The bodies of children no older than 12 lay scattered on the floor of a study beside two adults. They had each been stabbed. One little girl, whose hair was matted in blood, lay on the back of the female older mage. They ran them both through at once. No mercy. No restraint. "I trust you, and I tried to be by your side for Leandra. She came to me one day while you and your brother were off on some unsavory errand during our first year there, and she said "Whatever happens protect, my girl." When I asked her about Carver she said, "He's stronger than he thinks and besides she's already watching him. Who is going to look out for her?""_

_ Hawke crossed her ankles, letting the words sink in like honey in a sweet roll. Mother worried, but she always seemed to expect...the best. She never let Hawke do anything less than 100% and could almost be as bad as father. Then when he passed all the responsibility fell on Hawke. Mother never said anything. It just...happened. Then Aveline was there and they were in Kirkwall. Hawke hadn't really thought about how many times Aveline had offered to run errands for her mother, to escort her to market, to talk to her while she tried to seek audience with Viscount Dumar. She had just become a fixture of their everyday even after her marriage._

_ "Mother... considered you her other daughter."_

_ A warmth lit up Aveline's features and her youth returned to her almost at once._

_ "I know. I will always be thankful for that, but she never needed to ask. Family never does." A silence fell between them as they watched a man dragging two little boys by the arm. From what it looked like they were trying to get at each other and the man was not having it. A soft laugh left Aveline's throat. "They remind me of you and Carver."_

_ Hawke turned toward her,_

_ "We never fought that badly."_

_ "No, you didn't but he did. You'd take it until he was done then dish it right back out in a less...confrontational way." Aveline leaned her cheek against her fist. An unfamiliar tingling settled in Hawke's chest. This could be the last of their talks. The last of their peaceful days. Her heart stung as the truth dug deeper._

_ "There won't be mornings like this anymore."_

_ She couldn't drag out the wound. _

_ "No, there won't."_

_ Her sister deserved a better life._

_ "Aveline...I am sorry."_

_ 'Maker forgive how I transgress'_

_ "I chose to leave with you and I choose to stand by you. I do not condone giving Anders his life. I cannot, but I will follow you. While losing my home hurts losing my family would be worse."_

_ 'Guide this most faithful servant of justice to better lands.' _

_ "Aveline, we aren't family. No blood binds you here."_

_ The air became silent, and Aveline sat up, putting her arms on the table._

_ "You do not mean that."_

_ 'And if she pass from this world first let her have my place at the Maker's side.'_

_ "I appreciate your friendship. You have been a most loyal companion." Hawke slid her hands under the table, trying to hide their shaking. This was harder than she thought. "I never asked you to follow me out of the city. I only asked you to do the right thing."_

_ Aveline's eyes were blazing emerald orbs, dissecting every part of Hawke's face. Hawke refused to flinch, letting her expression fall flat. If Aveline saw the truth she wouldn't back down._

_ "Do not write me off like I'm some hired hand." Aveline's eyes pleaded with her, but Hawke would not answer their call._

_ Hawke leaned in, lowering her voice._

_ "Do not ask me to allow you to follow a murderer. " _

_ "I'd be following you. I gave up my life for you not because of your mother, but because we have been in this together."_

_ "I never asked that either." The words held not the slightest ounce of emotion. "We are not sisters, Aveline. I never asked you to stay by my side all these years. You did and I abused you for it. I am no different than Anders." Hawke drew in a slow steady breath, pulling the heavy coin pouch from her pocket and pushing it towards her. "I will never forgive myself for taking away your home. Take this, get Donnic and leave."_

_ Aveline rose to her feet, spitting out "I do not want your coin!"_

_ "But you need it." Hawke pushed it towards her again. _

_ Aveline stared at Hawke for a long time, but Hawke did not look up at her. She had to burn that bridge so evils wouldn't follow. Despite the harm it caused herself, Hawke's love ran too deep to allow Aveline to throw herself and Donnic into the fire. Begrudgingly, Aveline snatched up the pouch._

_ "Fine, but promise me this, Hawke."_

_"If...no, when Anders loses himself again you get away. You don't look back."_

_ Hawke glanced upward, but the mere sight of Aveline's emerald eyes sent her gaze crashing to the table like a coward. Hawke's cowardice hid itself well, but it had shown itself more over the past few days than ever before. Aveline didn't need to see that shame. The least Hawke could do was lie for her. _

_ "Yes."_

_Aveline turned walking down the long corridor to her room. Her shoulders slumped a little, but she held her head up high. Hawke stared watching the woman's back until Aveline turned into her room. Tears began to well up and sting Hawke's eyes. She buried her face in her hands, letting the sobs she'd restrained rattle through her. Her path drove them away for their own good or she lost them to it. It had been that way with Carver being sent to the Wardens. It had been with Bethany asking to walk in front to prove herself. Only Anders could remain, and her love for him put the tools for murder in his hands. Her love could only harm. Aveline's words rang true, what right had she to a child?_


	4. Waylaid

Chap. 4: Waylaid

In the morning Anders awoke to the sight of Hawke stretching, as Sodna trauted about her feet sniffing her pack. The sun had barely risen, and the air had a bitter chill to it. The days had been getting colder and they'd be in the heart of winter by the time Hawke gave birth...They'd have to find somewhere to hide out soon, at least, for a few weeks. A month would be preferable, but even a few days could be a luxury. Anders ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the thought away from his mind. They'd cross that bridge when they got there, dwelling on it did nothing.

"Morning."

Hawke only responded with a small grunt as she rolled her shoulders, first forward then backward. It was the same thing she did before expecting a fight, and over the last few months it had become part of her morning ritual. She reached down picking up the staff she inherited from her father. She stared at it, eyeing the details like she'd done a thousand times before. Her father would have killed Anders. Whether it was for impregnating his oldest child, or for ruining her life, either way, Malcolm Hawke would have killed him. Anders knew that. The only reason Carver hadn't because he had no clue of what had caused the fighting, nor that his sister was pregnant. Hawke let out a low sigh, then looked over her shoulder at Anders with her big sad eyes then turned away. Maybe she was thinking the same thing.

"If we continue northeast we will go through Ansburg. I'm not sure we'll stay hidden then. We were lucky in Markham as is. Perhaps we should have followed Quentin and the others into the mountains."

"No, we'd only be putting them in more danger. You said it yourself. Besides in the winters the mountains can be...rough. Remember Sundermont?"

Hawke looked back at him, and the stern look in her eyes made him look away. She wasn't hormonal, but as her pregnancy wore on she resisted talking about their days in Kirkwall. Anders swallowed, as the silence closed in around them. He searched himself for some witty remark to make her laugh, or something charming and flirtatious...even on her bad days he could coax a smile from her even when she pulled away from him. All they needed was time.

Hawke's expression softened and she put her hands on her hips, arching her back. "We can head through the city though. They may not expect us to risk it. Are your contacts still standing?"

"No. They were supposed to send word to the Cot and Piper inn." Anders stared at the backs of his hands, noting the scars. He had healed with those hands, killed with those hands, and defended the innocent mages starving for freedom. Those hands had guided his contacts efforts towards that freedom, and where had he gotten them? James. Kitterine. Ulgred. Fox. Lennette. Lucas. Zven Shald. They were either dead, imprisoned, or tranquil for it had been far too long for no one to contact him. His contacts elsewhere had been forced to pull back due to templar pressure...and the pressure rising from Starkhaven. _Another thought to cast aside_. "If we get any closer to Tevinter we'll probably find more templars. Regardless of whether they're looking for us they know a lot of apostates head there as a last resort."

Anders stood, folding up their blanket and half tattered bed roll. Hawke sighed, walking towards a tree behind him. She leaned against it, placing one hand on her belly, caressing it tenderly. The fear that haunted her eyes made Anders heart fall into the confines of his stomach.

There had been nights where he laid awake in Hawke's bedroom, imaging another world with another life. They'd be free mages and the templars would no longer exist. Without their struggle, they'd find a way to let Justice pass into the Fade. Hawke would be the most prominent mage in Kirkwall, and he would run his clinic proudly with no fear that some zealot refugee would turn him into the authorities. After a long day he'd return to the estate to find Hawke, sitting before a fire with Sod and two playing kittens at her feet. She'd have a book in her hands and a bassinet would be beside her. He'd kiss her hello then admire the little person half asleep in the bassinet. He didn't care if they had a girl or boy, but that little person would be a perfect mix of himself and her. Best of all their child would never fear being stolen from their arms, being beaten to unconsciousness for accidently starting a fire, being forced to confront demons to prove they're strong, being violated and seeing their assailant sent elsewhere and promoted. Their child would be safe and loved. They'd live the life Hawke deserved to live for all the good she'd done. His hands would be bloodless and he'd hold their child without an ounce of guilt. He'd be able to look them both in the eye and say, "I'll never leave".

Sodna let out a grunt, pushing Anders pack toward him and bringing Anders back to reality. He petted behind the dog's ears, and Sodna nuzzled his hand eagerly. Sodna was no kitten, but it was comfort all the same. Beneath his skin he felt Justice shift. His attachment to Hawke was bad enough, but the dog was needless in the spirit's eyes. _'We should leave them for their sake. They need not be in this_.' Anders bit the inside of his cheek pushing the thoughts back.

"I don't know what to do here." Hawke's eyes focused on the grey sky above, following birds that darted across the sky. Her voice held such tiredness, and her eyes seemed half glossed over and far away from him. At any second she could join those birds, and fly away into the wild unknown. Against his better judgment, every fiber of his being wanted to keep her grounded. He always suggested that she should leave, but even Sodna knew he never fully meant it. The light she gave him in the ever increasing dark made him want to cling to her, yet he knew what his presence wrought. There could be no peace in his arms.

Anders stood, slinging the pack over his shoulder. He moved to her side and reached to caress her cheek. Before he could touch her she turned from him. If she struck him endlessly nothing would come close to what he felt.

Anders shut his eyes stepping away from her. "We will figure it out."

Hawke turned to him, her skeptical eyes studied him slowly before another sigh left her . "Will we?"

A twig snapped, crisp and clear in the winter air. Both mages turned toward their right, and Sodna sprang in front of them teeth barred. Three Birds flew from the tree tops above the pines toward the west, and before another sound could be made Hawke was casting her spell. Twelve feet to the right of them she created a pool of winding energy that pulled everything to its core with increasing strength. Anders grabbed his staff from the ground, trying to ignore Justice' screaming battle song. He could fight without giving in. She had to see that despite everything control, hope, was not completely lost.

An arrow zoomed past him. He whipped his head around in a panic, causing his magic to flare. However, to his relief Hawke had narrowly moved out of the way, focusing her mana on the energy whirlpool. Every time she cast a spell part of him was in awe. The Circle said that apostates could never achieve the level of control of a circle mage, and despite everything he hated about The Circle Anders believed it for years. Then he met Hawke. The mass of energy was so tightly controlled, and the focus so measured that you'd think she'd trained all her life in Kirkwall. Sodna dug his paws into the ground fighting the pull of energy, as Hawke increased the pull. Four men clad in gleaming armor were ripped from the bushes and trees to the center of the energy. Justice began to scratch at the confines of Anders mind.

_No. I don't need your help._

_ 'They have sided with the templars. They are the enemy.'_

_ We don't know who they are._

_ 'They will kill her!'_

_ I can protect her without rage._

_ 'Fool! Our rage fuels our justice!'_

Battle cries tore him from himself, as five more men bolted from the trees in front of him. Anders gripped his staff tight as he began casting. He tasted the sweetness of the fade in his fingertips, as melodic magic flowed through him. From his right hand he launched a large fireball, sending two of the men jumping away from the other three, who took the brunt of the blast. The one in the middle appeared charred to a crisp, while the other two staggered to their feet. One pulled a bottle of shimmering red liquid from his side and downed it. Anders gritted his teeth. If they were like Hawke back in Kirkwall, they'd have about fifty of those. They needed to end this before they drew more attention. He heard the crackling of Hawke's chain lightening, and light flickered in his peripheral vision. A small smile came to his lips. She didn't make a habit of long battles unless she was pissed. Still every time they got into battle fears dug deeper into his mind. He had noticed over the months that she was slowing down. Her spells were as powerful as ever, but the energy it took to cast them wore her down quicker.

Anders raised his rock armor then began striking at the two men who stood, channeling his energy through his staff. The men groaned in pain, but before Anders could stop it the one on his left made a movement with his sword. Anders energy began to wane, as he felt his magic drained from him. The rocks crumbled to the ground around his feet. _Shit_. He pulled a small vial with bright blue liquid from his belt and downed it, feeling his energy return, but not fully. The raw taste of lyrium filled his mouth, and smoked through his brain almost instantly. The part of him that was Justice almost shuddered in pleasure, and Anders could not help but sneer. He swallowed, pushing his disgust away. _He doesn't wear templar armor...are these the renegade templars?_

'_Does it matter eliminate them_,' Justice rang out half drunk on the lyrium roaring through his veins. The man on his right rushed him fast, forcing Anders to block a strike with his staff. Anders barely managed to push the sword from his face, then struck the leather clad man hard in the stomach. Judging by his grunt the man seriously regretted not wearing heavy armor. Sodna looped around jumping past Anders onto the man, sinking his jaws into the man's throat. _Good boy, Sod_.

Anders turned back to the men charging him narrowly escaping the thrust of one. As quickly as he moved Anders cast another spell sending a wave of ice upon two of the men. The howling song of the cold blew through his ears, but he didn't feel it. He only felt the magic rush through his limbs. _'Become me. You waste time_.' Justice pounded against the confines of Anders mind. He swallowed again, and his mouth felt dry as he focused on his spell. Anders looked over his shoulder, Hawke cast stonefist, hurling a massive boulder upon the injured men before her. Hawke's spells were as relentless as she could be. Where she had a tendency to keep quiet her spells did all the talking. It forced Anders to keep up. A small smirk threatened the corners of his mouth, but Justice' growing wildness forced it back.

_'They will pay. We will tear them apart'_. A tingling began in Anders arms, and he felt his heartbeat quicken with renewed adrenaline. He had felt the rush of battle before, but the sensation felt more rabid. It swirled around his head and sewed into his flesh. A caged beast raged inside him, waiting to be unleashed to destroy those who would oppose him. It needed to get out, and crush every single enemy. It longed to hear their screams echo out through the morning. Terror began to creep up Anders spine, and the cold of his spell did no compare to the cold in his heart. Anger was normal, but this was unfamiliar. He had to restrain the spirit, but the mental barriers were cracking like fractured glass. _No, I have to be strong._

He channeled more energy into his spell until both men turned blue, pushing Justice down as far as he could. One of the men crumpled to his knees, having succumbed to the cold. The other was attacked by Sodna just like his companion, but that man's neck did not tear. It cracked and crunched like frozen meat. The battle would be over soon, Justice would calm down, and they could make their escape. Yet Anders heart dropped; from the corner of his eye he saw Hawke begin to cast tempest. Big, shiny, and bound to get attention. It may have been one of her favorite spells, but she hadn't cast it in months. _Why now_? He saw two women clad in heavy armor bolt toward Hawke from the trees, with swords drawn before the spell was cast. Behind them came three other men in heavy armor carrying daggers and swords. The looks on their faces were intent, and their eyes showed no fear. They faced the champion of Kirkwall and one of the greatest enemies of the Chantry, yet all that consumed their eyes was determination. They believed in hunting them down, unlike the petty mercenaries that crossed their path. As Hawke cast her spell he could see her stagger, her shoulders heaving with every breath. They would be overwhelmed. _There's too many to fight and nowhere to go_.

_'We must-'_

A sharp pain tore Anders from his thoughts, as a blade sliced through his arm causing him to drop his staff. Another pain sliced through his shoulder. He saw a man emerge from the forest with his bow pointed straight at Hawke. There were four more men beside him with axes and broadswords, and unlike the others they wore the emblem of Starkhaven on their chests. They would kill her and bring her head before Sebastian as a trophy. He'd sit upon his throne and call it justice.

Fire pumped through his veins, and Anders suddenly felt as though he was thrown back into a murky darkness. The vague awareness of standing, and moving with his staff in hand remained constant, but he drifted through the fog. An acidic heat overcame his mind, as he struggled to shake off the feeling radiating through his being. The taste of the lyrium lined his mouth and he wondered if Justice was affecting him. Yet after a moment he was staring down the bowman again, and the feeling of being out of his body in the fog vanished. Anders was himself. He could master Justice even when pressed. With some cleverness he could protect Hawke from their assailants. That bowman would learn to regret threatening Hawke. They all would. They could go running back to Sebastian, battered beyond imagination, and tell him the Champion lives. If he let them run back at all. His grip was tight enough to did the grooves of the staff into his palms with a sharp sting.

"You will not hurt her!"

The voice was not his own.


	5. For the First Time

**Chap 5: For the First Time**

When Anders came to he was standing across their camp. In one hand he held a bow half snapped in two with blood soaked fingers. In the other he held the bowman from earlier, but the man was slack jawed. The only thing in his eyes was empty death. Anders's heart began to race, and cold crept across his skin. He dropped the corpse, his hands shaking as blood ran down his arms "What have I-"

_ 'We healed. Do not worry most of it is not our own,' _Justice bellowed out, but Anders found no comfort in his words.

Anders stepped from the corpse only to find another at his feet half torn asunder. He whipped his head around, finding more carnage before him. Blood painted the path from where he stood to where he last remembered standing. The air smelled like charred burning flesh. Bodies were splayed out and apart across the grass. Some were mangled and contorted into broken clumps to the point he could not tell metal and leather from flesh. His staff was still where it fell near the tree, but beside it lay a corpse splattered in blood. Below the arrow dug into the tree trunk sat Hawke, slumped against its trunk beside a whimpering Sodna. He could not tell if her eyes were open or closed. Anders heart leapt into his throat, and he could not stop his body from shaking as he ran to her side.

When he approached Sodna growled, turning toward Anders with his teeth bared. Fury consumed the dog's entire body. He was a great high dragon and the fierceness of his roar made Anders half jump out of his skin. "Easy boy..." Anders glanced at Hawke with caution, taking an inch toward her. Paleness riddled Hawke's face, and her chest appeared still. _What happened...did I_?

"Hawke? Maker no, anything but this...I didn't mean to..." Anders fell to his knees. His insides contorted into knots and his skin felt frigid. He couldn't have hurt her. Could he? It must have been Sebastian's men. It had to be them not him, and not Justice. Despite his protests, Justice liked Hawke for her spirit and desire to help mages, even as he called her a cursed distraction. Why would they hurt her when Anders lived to protect her? From the corners of his mind came the spirit, trying to remind Anders that they lived for righteousness, but Anders smothered the spirit's song deep within his soul.

Anders turned toward Sodna, as he moved closer to Hawke, "What happened? Did I do this"

The mabari gave one deep growl then slowly stepped aside. That question seemed enough to convince him Anders was himself again, and Sodna turned his attention back to Hawke. An arrow protruded from her forearm, and her robes were spotted with blood. He stared down at his hands. They were foreign to him—the instruments he once used to help people had become his own ruination.

"No...this wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to grow old." The words sounded flimsy and weak on the winds, but he meant them. If no one else believed him he wouldn't care, but they were true. Despite everything that had passed between them she was meant to live.

A small noise caused his head to shoot up. Hawke tossed her head, managing to rest it back against the tree. With her neck extended he noticed the blood trailing down from the back of her head. He'd have to deal with that and her arm. What caught his eye next made him stop, deep purple bruises were forming on her neck, four in a row like fingers. She let out another whimper.

"Hawke, love, can you hear-"

"Get back from me." Hawke groaned, her voice was barely above a croak. She tried to move away, but only winced as she put pressure on her injured arm.

"It's me. Hawke, I'm Anders." She had to see him, Anders, there before her. He'd never hurt her. He couldn't have. He loved her.

"Are you ever? Aren't you and Vengeance the same?" Hawke's words were like venom. They flowed into his core, shifting his insides. No, she couldn't believe that. She never called Justice that before.

What had he done?

"I'd never hurt you. Maker...I don't know-"

"You lost control. You tore them limb from limb. All of them slaughtered like animal...One became a walking bomb and then you..." Hawke was shivering, recoiling deeper into herself and farther from him with every word spoken. The carnage before her was all she could see, and the words flowed from her like vomit she could no longer contain. "You crushed the last few all at once. They tried to surrender. They tried. They begged...their screams..." Tears began to flow, and she didn't even seem to notice. "I..tried to stop you and you..."

The voice that echoed from his lips

The images came in a brief flurry. Hawke grabbing his arm, her screams almost silent against the song of vengeance playing out in his head. Anders hand around her throat, as Sodna barked at him ready to pounce. She gripped his wrist, struggling between her desperate gasps. Her face filled with shock, but more so with terror, as though he were no better than a darkspawn. A torrent of energy flowed through him sending both Hawke and Sodna flying back. Her body smashed against the tree with a heartwrenching thud. He didn't even look back, as he turned to the pleading soldiers of Starkhaven.

The cries of mercy.

The Blood.

Anders shut his eyes tight, trying to block the images out, as Hawke stared out at what had been their camp. Her eyes though damp with tears seemed blank, almost dead except for the unrelenting fear in their depths. Hawke wasn't afraid of much, but Anders had succeeded where the Arishok and Meredith failed. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, as his stomach twisted within him. "_Justice should always be tempered by mercy,_" Hawke told him that once, but that was hard, much harder than it used to be. She seemed so far off sometimes, like he was grasping for her through the fog. Though he struggled to remember what happened, the sensation passed over his skin with vagueness. His awareness that Justice took control only occurred afterward. Then Anders mind sank into the dark, as though he were blinking, but he could have sworn he was in control. That black out was different than before. _What is happening to me_?

Anders reached for her, but she fled his touch. Sodna growled, but he refused to back down. He had tried so hard to restrain Justice. Before, he took comfort in Justice making deaths quick and simple. What had transpired there defied the spirits nature, although Anders rage had perverted him some things were basic. Justice had never prolonged suffering before, but Justice had never felt so right in his skin. The way those men begged as his spell slowly broke each bone. Maker. Hawke tried again in vain to get away. He hadn't meant to hurt her, and he needed her to see. She had to believe. He grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look at him. She whimpered as if he would strike her. A hole formed inside his chest, and he felt bile rise to his throat before he choked it down. "Never again. Never."

Hawke stopped struggling, and just stared at him with uncertainty. "I love you Hawke. I'm sorry...so sorry." Anders looked down, taking her arm, as he tried to hold back the urge to sob. He had to fix her. To fix them. He pushed her sleeve taunt against her skin. Without looking up he broke the wooden part of the arrow from the tip, eliciting a groan from her. He rolled up her sleeve, and found that the arrowhead almost went to the bone. Hawke grunted, turning her gaze toward the ground. She seemed dazed without something to focus on. Her head began to roll a bit, as if she was falling asleep. _Not good_.

"Sod keep her awake. Don't let her sleep."

The dog stared then moved around him, licking a small cut on Hawke's face, causing her to wince. The dog began to nuzzle and lick her face, occasionally nipping her shoulder to snap her back to reality. It would be a good distraction. The next part would hurt. Anders reached for his pack pulling out two a small metal lockpicks. _It'll have to do_. He grabbed her summer dress ignoring the red smirches his fingers left. He rolled it up then shoved it in her face. She knew the drill, and bit into it without hesitation. Anders took the two picks, and began to carefully remove the arrow tip. Hawke's screams were muffled, but that did not stop the chills running up his spine. Anders gritted his teeth. The arrow tip was serrated. It couldn't be quick for her. The Maker wouldn't be that kind.

Minutes later the arrow tip was out, and Anders was casting a healing spell upon her arm. He did his best to stretch his mana to heal her head, but the battle from earlier both as himself and as Justice had worn him thin. There was only so much he could do for her head injury regardless. Mending limbs with magic was one thing, but minds? When he pulled away the arrow wound was closed, though it would be sore for weeks to come. Anders took the rolled up dress, wiping away the blood from her neck, but Hawke snatched it from his hands and held it to the back of her head.

"We have to leave," Anders said. He took Hawke's pack from beside the tree, tying its straps down to Sodna. He put his staff on his back, and drew in a deep breath. For each second they stood there more of Sebastian's men could be closing in. He stood and offered his hand to Hawke, but she refused it. She tried to rise to her feet, using the tree as support. Her movements were shaky, and uneven. When she attempted to walk, she only succeeded falling forward. Anders caught her, ignoring the lump in his throat. This was bad, very bad.

She pulled away, but Anders refused to let her go.

"Don't touch me."

"Hawke, you're going to have to lean on me."

"No."

"You don't have a choice. We need to leave before more of Sebastian's men appear."

"No, I can-"

"Hawke!" There was no time for this. She could be repulsed by him later. She gave a weak nod, putting an arm around him to support herself. Sodna walked to her side with her staff in his mouth. She reached down, petting him before taking her staff in hand with the bloodied dress. The dog was getting more appreciation than him, and that incensed part of Anders. _Jealous of a damned dog_.

There was no time to cover their tracks as they fled into the trees. To their luck the forest had predominately pines, and thick bushes not yet weakened by the descending winter frost. Anders and Hawke tried to keep their steps light. Every so often they heard the sound of feet or voices, and retreated further into the woods. Anders tried to keep track of where they were, but he soon found himself without direction. Hawke could be of no help, she seemed barely there. Still Anders forged on, half dragging Hawke at points before she began to walk again. They had to keep moving_. We need to find shelter... 'We need to see if we can contact the others in the underground or the mage collective._' With a grimace Anders kept going, not even bothing to fight against the spirit. Not acknowledging him, judging by the tingling in his mind, could be worse than outright fighting.

Hawke tugged upon his robes, causing him to stop and bringing him from his thoughts. She pulled from him, and staggered off towards a ditch, vomiting. Anders had to find somewhere for them to rest. She was in no condition to keep traveling. With every passing moment it became more evident that she could barely keep her eyes open, and it was his doing.

Years ago, Anders swore he would never hurt Hawke. He had looked Leandra in the eye, and told her that despite his goals he'd never let Hawke get caught up in everything. Leandra didn't know of Justice, but every time he appeared at the estate a look of worry came over her face. Yet, when she heard him speak and saw the way he looked at Hawke, she trusted him. He trusted him. Lies were easy to believe when not even the speaker realized they were lies. He never thought things would go so far. Justice spoke of drastic measures and not allowing distactions, but Anders never thought he possessed the capability of hurting that which he cherished most. Yet he did again and again.

Hawke leaned upon her staff staggering back to his side.

"Where shall we go?" She reached to the back of her head, wincing. "If we continue northeast we will go through Ansburg. I'm not sure we'll stay hidden then."Anders tried to suck in the worry and return to normal, but Hawke frowned when she looked at his face. "Have I said this? I...don't quite recall."

Anders nodded, taking her arm around his shoulder once more. A thought floated to the surface of his mind, and he tried to deny it, that horrid hope she would forget any of this had happened. He was a monster wasn't he?

The two continued on eventually coming to a dirt road. Rather than walk along it Anders guided Hawke to the woods beside it. He hoped that Ansburg or a small village with an inn was near.

"Those men were from Starkhaven," Hawke said.

"They wore the emblem." Anders said, pushing a branch above his head as they walked. Had she forgotten about what he did to her, or was her head injury making her talk more?

"We've encountered more and more of them. Sebastian must have fully installed himself as king of Starkhaven." Her words were less to him than to herself. "I think...there's a village about a half days journey north of here. I believe it may have a small tavern and inn, but-"

"We'd need to venture into Ansburg for supplies."

"Aye," Hawke bit her lip clinging to Anders for a moment before stepping forward. A look of pain crossed her face.

"What is it?

"My head, and...it hurts."

Anders froze watching her hand fall to her belly. Fear clawed up his throat, scratching in his chest and beating upon his heart. He had been forced into midwifery in the clinic, and as a healer he spent far more time learning about the female body (not the fun way) in the Circle than he would have liked, yet it had never been his forte. Dozens upon dozens of women thanked him for delivering their children in darktown, but no matter how many labors he had helped he felt inadequate. Maybe it was because the whole birth thing was maddeningly unpredictable...dangerous with even the most experienced healer or midwife to aid. With skills or without he was the only healer she had, the only healer their child had. _No, I will not lose either of you_.

Hours later Anders could see a fork on the road ahead. He had washed the blood from his hands in a river, and hidden his stained coat in his pack. Hopefully no one they encountered would look too hard at them. A few wagons had passed on the road, but there were no signs of templars nor Starkhaven soldiers. A sign stood in the middle of the road, but it was too far to read and they'd have to expose themselves out in the open to do so.

"I'll go look." Hawke began to pull from him, but he refused to let her go.

"Ha, you can hardly stand." Hawke pursed her lips, glaring at him. "We go quickly, see where we are and then back into the woods."

"And if we're both seen?"

"Then hopefully whoever sees us keeps walking."

"A pregnant woman draws less attention. I'm harmless seeming."

Anders could contain his chuckling. "You? No, love, you are never "harmless seeming". You are kind and wonderful in every conceivable way, but you always have a force about you. Besides you have blood sleeves still, and that'll draw more attention."

"We're both splattered in blood. " Hawke sighed putting her weight on her staff. Her eyes stared out to the distant trees. "It seems we always are."

"You fell down a hill hit your head and scratched yourself up bad. I did the same...the blood was from your wounds, mine, and a dead dear we half fell into." Before Hawke could get out another word Anders was dragging her to the sign. "That's our story."

Ansburg right.

Selton left.

"We'll head for Selton. It's closer." Anders began to lead Hawke and Sodna back to the trees when two horse draw wagons approached. He turned, figuring that continuing the path would be less suspicious. Hawke lowered her head trying to walk more up right, as the wagons slowed then stopped beside them.

"Selton, we've heard there's an inn there." Anders pulled Hawke closer, putting a hand over her stomach. "The Mrs. is tired and honestly so am I."

"We're headed in the same direction. With your wife's condition it's mighty dangerous out here alone."

Anders didn't have to fake his lost smile.

"We do what we must to survive."

"Aye, my wife and I know how that goes." He motioned towards the cart behind him where a man and woman sat staring.

The elven man looked around the cart towards his wife, and the little girl studied Anders face. When he first met the Warden she did the same thing with her bright golden eyes, as if assessing his danger. Anders glanced toward the woman and man on the wagon behind, giving a friendly wave. The man's wife had curly chestnut hair and deep mocha skin. _Come to think of it the Warden is an elf...gold eyes...dark skin. _He was probably over thinking it, looking for familiar things were there were none, but one thing was certain that woman was suspicious of them.

"We're headed to Selton ourselves. We have room in the back here."

Anders met Hawke's eyes, beginning a silent conversation. She needed rest. She didn't want people getting involved when they shouldn't. It was just one ride, and it would look suspicious otherwise. Hawke gave a small nod looking towards the man with a smile.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Hawke said.

"It's a rough world. Everyone needs to help each other now and then." The man shrugged then smiled. "I'm Jersik," He patted his daughter's shoulders, "This is my girl, Alora."

"I'm Ajantis and this is my wife, Branwen."

Hawke would kill him for it later. He knew what she was already thinking; "Branwen? Branwen as in fair, white, and not me?" Hawke cast a quick glare at him before rolling her eyes, as he guided her to the back. Months ago they had decided on five names the alternate between, and that remained at the bottom of hers. He helped her up onto the back of the wagon, eyeing its contents closely. Hawke had to be as low on energy as he was, and with her head injury they were intensely vulnerable. Anders had to be certain these people were safe. Mercenaries would stoop to any low for the bounty on his head, and it wouldn't be the first time they used a child to lower their guard. Shortly after they parted ways with Aveline and Donnic, a young boy asked for help in rescuing his parents from slavers, but instead lead them into an ambush. Varric damn near lost his arm in that fight.

Yet Jersik's wagon was only half filled with crates and trunks too small to hide anyone but a child...or dwarves, but that was unlikely. Sodna jumped up, climbing atop two crates and laying there. The hound's eyes never left him, but Anders couldn't blame the dog. Sodna had would die before letting Hawke get hurt, and in some odd way that comforted him. Anders sat beside Hawke, keeping a protective arm around her, despite her inching away at first. When Jerik looked back at them, Hawke scooted closer to Anders. Affection had nothing to do with it. They had to look believable, like an ordinary couple in love, but he couldn't help but wonder how much of their relationship had become the facade.

Over the years, he had become a lying master. Long before Justice, he could spin enough yarn to clothe half of Ferelden. So maintaining the lie for the ride, though ever present on his mind, was nothing to him. There were harder things to conceal than who they really were, such as the fact that despite how horrible the day had been he enjoyed the game. Deception, even more than magic, was his domain and weaving falsehoods still managed to give him a thrill. If only Hawke made it a point not to flinch when he touched her their story would be perfect. He hurt her, violently, without thinking. Hawke, the love of his life and mother of his child, was just another object in the way. Regardless he loved her, that was never a lie. Not for one moment.

Everything had gone so wrong. Anders played every possible horrific scenario in his head repeatedly, from being made tranquil to being killed by templars, but he never considered hurting her. He was losing himself to someone within. Anders, wouldn't hurt her, Justice shouldn't have hurt her, but what of Vengeance? What of the beast that made her recoil in fear?

"_Never Leave_." The words buzzed around his mind like ale before leaving a stale bitterness in brain.

_But I must_.


	6. Unintended Casualties

Chap 6 Unintended Casualties :NSFW Mature SMUTTY SMUT SMUT

***NOTE***The original version of this draft contained smut, and because of rules on I cut that section out. If enough people request it I will upload that section to my tumblr and link it on my profile. I think you deserve to see the full monty, but I respect site rules.***

Hawke shifted uncomfortably where she sat. Wagons had always made her a tad nauseous. Every bump and hole could be felt though Jersik made for a fine driver. Her head was pounding, and the creaking of the crates shifting conspired against her with the loudness of the wheels. Anders reached brushing hair from her temple, but all she could do was shirk away. She shut her eyes tight trying to envision another time and place.

"I'm sorry." Anders said in a hushed tone. Nothing inside her heart stirred, but fear.

"An...Ajantis we can discuss this later." Hawke fidgeted lowering her head. The entirety of her abdomen ached along with her spine. When she slammed against that tree she felt nothing, but that was the blacking out. Since her waking, the pain had become immense.

"I just...wanted you to know. " Anders pulled away. Hawke peeked from one eyelid, seeing Anders lean forward staring into his hands. They were the same hands that squeezed her neck and tossed her like a rag doll. How could they be that and the hands that held her like she was the only thing worth holding? Sorrow was etched into every line of his face, and if she didn't know any better he was about to break down. Pity began to bubble up within her. His fingers ran through his hair, and he gave a small vacant laugh. "It...can't go on this way can it?"

Words seemed wholly inadequate. Anders had nearly struck her down. He had grabbed her by the throat for trying to stop his merciless assault. She used to be able to tell where Anders began, but the line had become painful and blurred. What if he did that in front of their child? What if Hawke tried to stop him from slaughtering someone in cold blood and he killed her? Her heart stopped, and all she could hear was the sound of the blood slowing in her ears. _What if he hurts our child? _She shut her eyes, whispering a silent prayer to the Maker beneath her breath.

The idea had crossed her mind before, but then it was abstract. Anders never touched her before. Now he had. Hawke couldn't trust Justice, and it seemed Anders couldn't either. He was right it couldn't go on, but despite the fear he put in her the thought of leaving him tore her apart. It sounded too romantic, but he felt like the missing half of herself. He didn't make her feel like she could fly, that was a fleeting emotion. Anders made her feel like she could walk and not just stand, for her family or Kirkwall. She couldn't save him, but maybe she could stop him. Maybe she could try to help him hold on. That wasn't "saving," besides saving meant she did it for him. No, Hawke did it for herself and their child.

Father always told her to stand on her own two feet. The world's cruelties could be endless, and he never hid that from her. "Trust in family and yourself," some of the last words he ever said. He had been proud of his eldest child, but had he ever envisioned her wandering the north with a man who killed innocents? Hawke shifted in her seat, as weariness set deeper into her body. Father would have liked Anders, and Hawke wanted to believe he would support their fighting for mage freedom. Still Hawke knew what father would have said, "Anders...isn't family." She didn't have to trust him, but her father taught her so much more than that. Malcolm Hawke taught his children to protect those they loved. Hawke had loved Anders, but now?

Anders, for all his faults, still stirred something inside her. Before the fear it had been love, and as that wagon bumped along she still cared. She loved Anders when he smiled at her across the Hanged Man, then turned away as if it happened despite himself. She loved Anders when he set the broken arm of a little girl she found crying in the muck of darktown. She loved Anders when they argued over grammatical errors in his manifesto. Andione Hawke loved Anders. What she did not love existed inside him, Vengeance or Justice.

Before that day they had been different things. Justice had been a separate entity with staunch honor. Vengeance was what happened when Anders anger overrode Justice being. Anders was the man Justice called friend and she called her lover. _No, its not be that simple_. With each passing day, Anders fell deeper into Vengeance because Justice no longer knew the difference. Intertwined in the strings of Anders being, and with a crippling death grip upon his soul Justice brought Anders down. Perhaps what scared her most was the unknown. Justice could become a new demon, rendering Anders nothing more than an abomination. Anders was falling into the abyss...she couldn't save him, but what else could she do? Abandoning him to his inner turmoil had never been a real option, as much as she considered it sometimes. _Maker help me. Save him...we are mages, apostates, but...please let me have Anders. My Anders. _While hope made her wish for the Maker's intervention, she choked back the tears threatening to fall. _I will stay with him, but the baby comes first_. Father's words rang true. She had to protect the ones she cared for.

She opened her eyes reaching out to stroke his cheek. Against her will her hand began to shake and her innards became blocks of ice. _No, I must do this_. When her fingers brushed against his skin the sensation felt like coming home, and yet the house wasn't right. Valued items had been robbed and the house was barren. One thing held true, the feel of his stubble reminded her she was alive. Anders faced her, and it crossed her mind how much he had aged. He looked so grey and worn. His beautiful eyes had dulled, and a real smile was an elusive animal. Anders never stopped being handsome though. If only he had maybe it'd be easier.

"You two sound Ferelden," Jersik called from the front.

His small talk was a gift from the Maker himself.

"Yes. We were refugees after the last Blight," Hawke said.

"Eight years is a long time to be far from home. Ever think about going back?"

"All the time." The memory of Bethany being tossed to the ground intruded on her thoughts. "There's too many ghosts. I'm the last one of my family."

"My apologies. Didn't mean to stir-up memories."

"Do not worry about it. If not for the Blight I wouldn't have met my Ajantis." She wasn't fully lying. Chances were she'd have never met him if not for the Blight. Anders held her hand against him as if she would disappear. His amber eyes went straight through her down to that unnamed feeling inside her. Still she felt where his fingers were pressing her neck. In his eyes lay something deeper than sorrow, something primal in the worst way. The wildness didn't make him look like an animal, but like a frightened child. Despite all his power, hurting her scared him just as it had her, and that made it all the more terrifying. That look shouldn't have been there. Their lives should have been more than hiding, more than fear.

Before she was heavily with child they helped as many mages as they could get to safe houses or hide out in the country unnoticed, but by month six it had become too risky. Her spells may not have waned, but her speed with her staff was embarrassing. Still she took comfort in the rebellion, and it kept her thoughts at bay. But the day came when Anders finally worries became realized, she was nearly run through and took a serious wound to the leg. The scar stretched across most of her right thigh. By avoiding the rebellion nothing distracted her thoughts. The fear would creep in and thrive on her weary soul like a demon. When she cast a spell and the heat of battle filled her body everything would feel as it once did. Now they only ran and cowered like the dogs Free Marchers considered them to be. The quiet between fights only held the same thoughts of the other worlds with better lives for Andione Hawke.

She'd be getting things in the market one day, and he'd bump into her. They'd talk, and she'd offer to help him run a clinic. One day she'd use magic to help someone and so would he. They'd fall in love. They'd hide in the wilds in a small cabin farming the land. She'd have a tulip garden as beautiful as the one in Lothering. Together they'd refrain from using magic, and the templars would ignore them as just another couple. They'd have two children a girl and a boy, Malcolm and Leandra, who would fight like Carver and Bethany and love each other just as much. Hawke would spend the evenings making soup, and Anders would joke she had a Free Marchers sense of taste because it wasn't grey or brown. Justice would still be in the Fade where he belonged. Every night she'd curl up with Anders, and would fall asleep to the beat of his heart without thinking twice. They'd live free not just from the Chantry, but from everything else. That was not Hawke's way though. She'd grow bored in half an hour then risk her life on some foolish errand. It felt better to imagine that Anders hadn't lied about the spell or potion or whatever the hell it was. They'd separate Anders from Justice then help the rogue mages and templars. They'd expose Meridith's madness and figure out what poison that red lyrium really was. With Anders hand in hers, and with Cullen urging them on they'd bring about a new age.

Hawke swallowed pushing the thought down inside herself. Day dreaming did nothing. A sharp pain arose in her abdomen followed by a slap of dizziness. Hawke instinctively leaned against Anders, whimpering. Anders slid his arms around her, and for a moment she remembered what it was like to never want him to let go.

"I love you," he said.

Hawke shut her eyes once more, trying to pull words from inside her heart. Scathing or loving. Anything would do. But Hawke only took his hand, locking her fingers with his. The words that came forth from inside burned in her throat, and she choked them down, swearing to never let him hear them.

_You scare me_.

_ Andione Hawke lay in her bed perfectly naked with her lover. Her dark hair sprawled out over her pillow in a curly mass. Anders head lay on her lap, as he hummed a sweet little tune. Hanging above her fireplace were their dripping clothes. Hawke sneezed, sniffling as she sat up._

_ "See what you've done. I'm catching a cold."_

_ "Me? You were the one who wanted to go running from the docks to Hightown in the rain. Ms. I-want-to-do-some-shopping."_

_ Hawke raised a brow, putting on a wide eyed innocent smile."How was I supposed to know it would rain? Not everything is so obviously wet you know?"_

_ Anders beamed, giving a small laugh. "Naughty Hawke, but beside the point. There were those big dark menacing clouds that screamed ""Grr thunder, Argh lightening". "_

_ Hawke couldn't help but burst out into laughter. For a mage with a spirit living within him he was quite non-threatening._

_ "Hey, you didn't say anything to stop me."_

_ Anders shrugged. "Of course not, but I'll use any excuse to see you wet." The seductive tone of his voice made shivers dance down her spine. Hawke raised a brow, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. He could be so...naughty, and it always made her blush even when she returned his flirts with ease. "You're beautiful when you blush. Have I ever told you that?" Anders leaned up pressing his lips to hers, gently at first, but the passion of the kiss grew. He sat up stroking her cheek. The look he gave her penetrated deep like a bolt straight to her heart. _

_ "I hope I always make you blush."_

_ Andione kissed him lightly. _

_ "You will."_

_ His lips found hers again and she pulled him on top of her. The heat of his bare body against hers sent tingling to her core. Light caresses down her stomach to her inner thigh stoked the flames inside her. His touch could be so torturously slow. It never ceased to amaze her how easily he made her whimper. She rocked her hips, and felt his excitement hard against her._

_ "I bet I can make you do other things too." His voice was like velvet, warm and teasing. All wanted to do was roll in it. He could read her a list of ingredients for health poultices and it'd sound arousing._

_ "Oh really?" _

_ "Yes..."_


End file.
